Deck the Hull
by Katherinosaurus
Summary: After witnessing the fall of Thessia, Shepard and the crew need to stop by Omega for a simple supplies run. Of course, these things are never as simple as Shepard plans, and swashbuckling holiday-infused hijinks ensue. (Rating for language and violence. Shakarian.)
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Many, many apologies for falling off the face of the galaxy for over a week! The idea for a Christmas fic popped into my head, and I just had to act upon it. I'll be updating this one every Friday and Tuesday through Christmas! I needed a little break from my main story, and I've also been playing a Vanguard recently and wanted to experiment with writing my Shepard with different combat skill sets. Let me know what you guys think! I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving and a safe and successful Black Friday!_

* * *

"Oh, you fucking piece of shit!" I kicked the artificial tree, launching an ornament across the room where it shattered against the bulkhead. Somehow, my legs were tangled in strands of lights, I had small cuts all over my arms and hands from the tree - which was not, in fact, "as lush as the real thing" like the salesman had insisted, and was more like a pole full of razor-sharp flakes of green plastic - and I was drenched in sweat after three hours of trying to maneuver the goddamned thing around the goddamned mess hall.

It shouldn't have bothered me this much. It was just a stupid Christmas decoration, but Thessia was too fresh in my mind. I could still see Reapers trudging across the landscape, toppling buildings and murdering thousands like it was nothing.

And I could still see Kai Leng's smug face. Bastard. I should have put him down. I could have put him down. I could have landed one last biotic blast and sent his ass straight to hell, but I managed to fuck that up, too.

I'd had it. I'd had it with the Reapers. I'd had it with Cerberus.

And I'd had it with this fucking fake Christmas tree.

"Should I be concerned about what I've been hearing out here, or..." Garrus trailed off. His tones drew the half-sentence upwards into a question. He'd appeared in front of the entrance to the Main Battery, arms crossed and voice lilting with its usual swagger.

I would have found it charming, had I not been agitated to the point of rage, at the time.

"Fuck!" I spat. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I flailed and punctuated each word with a stomp of my feet against the offending light strands.

"Spirits!" Garrus started, clearly not expecting that particular reaction.

I continued my tirade until two gloved hands clamped down on my arms from behind me and forced me to confine my wrath.

Breathing heavily, I glared up at him over my shoulder.

His thumbs brushed against my skin. I still wasn't used to that. It felt nice, but it wasn't familiar, yet. The small motion simultaneously soothed me and caught the attention of every nerve in my body. We'd only been, well, fraternizing since Menae - and then there had been the night before the Omega 4 Relay. Everything was still so new. So alien.

I snorted. Alien.

"Decorating not going as planned, Shepard?" His subvocals were gravelly. They wore away my resentment and left me feeling exhausted, my anger somewhat sanded down. He knew exactly how those tones affected me, too. Garrus had been diffusing my temper since we blasted our way through Dr. Michel's clinic.

Even so, it would take more than a few murmured words to dial my anger back, completely.

"If that thing is 'the galaxy's best imitation tree,' then I am a fucking turnip," I snapped. "That's the last fucking time I order anything without seeing it, in person. Remind me to shoot that fucking requisitions terminal."

Garrus chuckled. "A turnip?"

"Terran produce. Root vegetable. Red. Good in stews."

"Ah."

I stared daggers at the tree. One of its branches chose that exact moment to fall from the boughs and snap in half against the deck. I twitched. Fucking thing was mocking me. I was sure of it.

"I take it you aren't satisfied with your purchase, then." He dug his thumbs into my back and I groaned a little. That felt good, too, but damn it, I was angry and I didn't _want_ to feel good.

"I want to space the fucking thing," I said. "Throw it straight out of the fucking airlock. And then turn the ship around and shoot it with those big, well-calibrated guns of yours."

"As fun as that sounds, I don't think it's the best use of your time."

I frowned and slumped back against him. This wasn't such an alien motion. This was how it always had been. He was my pillar. My sensible, steady, somewhat socially-inept pillar.

His chest rumbled with a low, pensive growl.

"How far from Omega are we?" I asked.

"Must be just a couple of hours, now. You okay, Shepard?"

"Yeah." I kicked the floor with the toe of my boot.

"That's funny, because it doesn't seem like it."

"Are you questioning your CO, Vakarian?" Of course, he was. He knew he was one of only a handful of people in the galaxy who could get away with it.

"Why, Commander, I'd never," he scoffed. He nibbled at the back of my neck and, despite myself, I relaxed against him a little more. That move was a new one, too, but it was certainly one of my favorites. Damned Turian knew exactly which buttons to press, and when to press them.

"Right." I nudged him with my elbow. "Are _you_ okay?" I asked, finally reigning in the bite in my tone and replacing it with a small measure of concern.

"Why wouldn't I be? I mean, apart from the Reaper invasion and the fact the Savior of the Citadel is losing a fight with artificial foliage-"

"Hah, hah, very funny," I drawled. His breath was on my neck, hot and reassuring. "I meant about going back to Omega."

"Oh." He stiffened behind me almost imperceptibly. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"Very convincing." Now, it was my turn to give him some flack. Liara always joked that she was surprised we ever managed to start any kind of relationship, given how much we bickered.

Liara. Her face on Thessia was something I'd never forget. Heartbreak didn't even begin to cover it.

Not now, Shepard. I shoved that train of thought off its tracks before it could lead back to the place I'd been, a few minutes before.

"I'm fine," he repeated. "Really, Shepard. It's been a long time. And from what you said about your last trip to Omega, it's not the same place I left."

"It isn't, but-"

"We'll only be there for a day, getting supplies. I can handle myself for a day."

I heard uncertainty in his tones, but I also heard stubbornness and knew it wouldn't do any good to push the subject further.

"Still," I said. "Feel free to stay on the Normandy if you need a break from Omega. I'm sure Tali would be more helpful on this trip, anyhow."

He chuckled. "Ouch, Shepard. Why aren't you bringing her along in the first place, then?"

I rolled my eyes. "She gave me a list of what she needs. I'm not so much of an idiot that I can't pick up a few critical ship parts, even if I'm not an engineering wunderkind. She said she'd rather not go. Something about not wanting to visit a place where her friends get their faces blown off with rockets."

I shot him another pointed look over my shoulder before continuing, "I meant what I said, Garrus. If things get too hot, or if you don't feel comfortable on that rock, stay on the Normandy. I'm half-tempted to just lock you in the Battery, before we dock."

"I'll keep that in mind." His tones brushed me off entirely and I swallowed the urge to argue with him. He changed the topic. "Do you want any help with... ah... whatever it is you're doing?"

A rueful smile stretched out across my face. "You're inspiring a whole lot of confidence with that offer, big guy, but I think it's a lost cause, at this point."

"And here I thought lost causes were your specialty."

"Yeah, well, lately they don't seem to be my strongest suit."

I could feel the critical look he must have been giving the back of my neck. The moment of silence mixed with his steady breathing and raised the hair on my arms. There it was, again. Alien.

He nuzzled against me. "Thessia?" he asked, so quietly that I almost didn't catch it.

I nodded. The color drained from my face, chased away by the ice water that dripped through my veins. Thessia.

"You can't blame yourself. There wasn't anything more you could have done." Fingers brushed up and down my arms.

"Oh, I beg to differ." My face puckered and my voice soured. I may have been the Savior of the Citadel, but I could still pout as well as any toddler could.

He sighed. "Okay, well, obviously you _can _blame yourself - and you're excelling at it - but you _shouldn't_."

I took a few steps away from him and shivered involuntarily. I always forgot how damn warm he was until I broke physical contact and the cold, stale, starship air settled against my skin.

"Yeah, well, I think I'll just keep playing to my strengths." I looked the remnants of the tree - the _fucking_ tree - up and down again. There was no way it was salvageable. For a moment, I seriously considered spacing it. At least then the crew would have something fun to watch, for a few fleeting moments.

Something to distract them from the thoughts of Reaper MHD cannons slicing buildings in half and Thessia disappearing into the distance beneath a cloud of airborne rubble.

Damn it.

I clenched and unclenched my fists.

"Shepard."

"That's all, Vakarian. I'm going to clean this mess up. Forward airlock, two hours, full armor."

He didn't move for a few seconds. I closed my eyes, willing him to let the conversation drop. If he wasn't going to hear reason about Omega, I wasn't going to hear reason about Thessia. As far as I was concerned, Thessia was lost because of me. I didn't act quickly enough. Didn't get there soon enough. And now it was all but vanished.

Garrus's footsteps lead him back to the Main Battery. I didn't move until I heard the door shut behind him, and then I took a few purposeful strides towards the tree.

Summoning all of my self-control, I limited the power of my biotics and sent a shockwave of small blasts at the damned thing, delighting in the various plastic snaps and cracks that echoed off of the bulkhead.

I already had another charge ready when the tree-corpse hit the deck.

Time to exact some revenge.

Fucking tree.

* * *

"I like the old Nordic Christmas traditions - Krampus, trolls gobbling up misbehaving children, all of that," Joker said, not looking up from the helm's interface as he spoke. We were minutes away from docking with Omega. "None of this warm-and-tingly Chris Cringle bullshit."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me," I said, grinning. "Of course, if all of those Nordic legends were true, you probably wouldn't have made it past early childhood, Joker."

He laughed. "You wound me, Shepard."

I patted his shoulder. "You'll live. And that's what you get for insulting Santa."

Joker chanced a quick glance over his shoulder. "I'd never peg you for the type to get into the Christmas spirit."

I sighed. "Yeah, well, I figured I'd pull out all the stops, since it might be the last Christmas for... Well, forever." Damn. I hadn't meant to steer the conversation in such a grim direction. It seemed like my mind was insistent upon getting caught up in the darkest corners of thoughts possible.

Luckily, Liara changed the subject just enough to keep us from pondering my depressing observation.

"I always find it fascinating how vastly human mythologies differ - even when it comes to something as inconsequential as which imaginary person brings presents during a solstice," she said.

She and I were waiting near the airlock, antsy to get on Omega, get our supplies, and get out. The chore was a welcome mental distraction from the reality of Thessia and the war, but nobody in their right mind would want to spend more time than was necessary on Omega. Well, nobody except Aria, and there were more than a few screws loose, there.

"How do you mean?" I asked. I loved having these kinds of conversations with Liara. She came alive, animating her words with hand gestures and framing them with an exhilarated expression on her face.

I pretended not to notice that her eyes were swollen and her cheeks were tearstained.

"You don't see that much diversity in the myths of other species - Turians have their spirits, we have our Goddess, and there are countless myths and legends out there, but they're fairly universal. Humans don't seem to agree on much of anything, as a species."

I chuckled. "We're kind'a difficult, in that way, aren't we?"

"Is it just in that way?" Garrus called from behind us. "Because I think I could name a few more ways humans are difficult. Your hair is problematic, for starters." His tones were jovial and he seemed calmer than I would have expected, given our current proximity to the place that had chewed him up and spat him out just a couple of years prior.

Liara and I turned to face him, and Joker mumbled something technical under his breath and turned his focus completely to his controls.

"Maybe you didn't hear me, but I said _full_ armor, Vakarian." I braced one fist against my hip and gave Garrus my most intimidating CO look.

He cocked his head as he walked towards Liara and me. "I _am_ in full armor. What are you talking about?"

I reached out and rapped my other knuckles against his head - bare except for his visor - a few times. "Helmet," I said.

He groaned. "Shepard, I'm not going to wear my-"

"Oh, yes, you are."

His eyes narrowed, turning his expression into that of a predator that had just been unexpectedly antagonized by its prey. "No, I'm not."

I cocked a brow in warning. "Yes. You are."

"Why would I-"

"Oh, let me think." I placed my thumb and forefinger to my chin in a melodramatically-thoughtful pose. "It might have something to do with-"

"Don't say it's because a rocket hit me in the face."

"Why can't I say 'it's because a rocket hit you in the face?'"

He waved a hand dismissively in such a way that I was overtly aware of just how long and sharp his talons were, even beneath his glove. "It's getting old, Shepard." He moved to hit the door control on the airlock.

"Well, then maybe you shouldn't have gotten hit in the face with a rocket. Helmet. Now." I positioned myself in the way of his reach, blocking his attempt to end the conversation.

"And what if I refuse?"

I glowered at him. "You saw what I did to the tree."

Garrus sighed frustratedly.

"We _all_ saw what you did to the tree," Joker said from the cockpit. "And you are definitely getting a stocking full of coal for that one, Commander. I'm pretty sure you might have violated some kind of inanimate-objects'-rights law, "

"Thanks for the input, Joker," I replied, keeping the steel in my voice and my gaze nailed to Garrus's.

"You're welcome," I heard him mutter. "And by all means, keep bickering. It's not as if I have anything important to do like, say, _dock your very expensive warship."_

I mentally rolled my eyes. Oh, Joker. He definitely would have been eaten by Krampus.

"Shepard, it might actually be safer if he doesn't wear his helmet," Liara said. "People could recognize him as Archangel, if he did."

I turned my glare on her. Logically, she was correct. Of course she was. She was Liara, after all. But damn it, I wasn't about to willingly let Garrus walk onto Omega without a helmet and shield buffs and extra field rations and little fucking arm floaties in case he got shoved into a pool somewhere.

I ground my teeth.

Exhaled slowly.

Closed my eyes.  
"If there's shooting," I began, keeping my voice low and as threatening as possible, "if there's any hint of things taking a turn for the worst anywhere near us, you drop to the ground. You hide your ass and you do not engage. I'm not carrying you off of that rock on a stretcher, this time. Understood, Vakarian?"

"Understood, Shepard."

I gave him another look to drive my point home. "You'd better keep your word, or I might just shoot you, myself, to prove a point."

"I don't doubt you would," he chuckled, the tension breaking as quickly as it had arisen.

"Brace for docking," Joker said.

Omega was clearly visible from the windows on the bridge: dirty steel and city lights, bunched together and punching out of the asteroid like a sea urchin composed of equal parts grime and crime.

I braced myself for the inevitable wave of pungent odors waiting on the other side of the airlock, double-checked the heat sink in my Carnifex, and cast one last concerned look at Garrus.

Here we go, again. At least this time, it was going to be an easy visit.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Late by an hour and a half, drat! _

_This chapter is a bit shorter than most will be, and it does contain spoilers for the Omega DLC, so be wary if that is something you'd like to avoid! _

_I so appreciate the feedback I've gotten, so far! As always, let me know what you guys think. _

_Also, as I was writing this, I realized I have a thing for choking out characters. It seems to happen in every story I write. I'm not sure what that says about me as a person but WHATEVER ENJOY THE CHOKING AND YULETIDE AND OMEGA._

* * *

"Something's off, Shepard," Garrus said.

I frowned.

We'd been on Omega for all of thirty seconds, but I could feel it, too. Something _was_ off. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Whatever it was, it left a sour taste in my mouth and an itch on my shoulder which prompted me to check my six in paranoia.

My index finger brushed against the trigger of the Carnifex holstered to my thigh. It was a subconscious action, almost as if I was checking that the trigger was still there. I felt Garrus's eyes on my hand and slowly lowered it away from the gun. No need to make him any more nervous.

Everything looked to be just about the same. The paint on the various shuttles in the transportation hub was chipped and faded, the floor was slick with a combination of every bodily fluid that could be imagined, and that damned Batarian prophet was shouting from atop his soapbox. I reminded myself to shoot him, when the war was over.

I wrinkled my nose. Everything definitely smelled the same.

"He's right," Liara said. "Something doesn't feel right, here."

"I know," I said. I thew a quick glance around the room. No sign of anyone especially threatening. The few people who were in the transport hub - a couple of humans, some Batarians, and an Asari who looked more than a little worse-for-the-wear - paid us no attention. No more revolution in the streets, no more Cerberus lurking around the corner, no more Reaper Adjutants hiding in the shadows. It was the Omega I'd first set foot on, when I'd come to get my human mercenary, Salarian scientist, and Turian vigilante.

I didn't let my thoughts linger on Mordin longer than it took to send a sad, silent wish into the universe that, wherever he was, he was happy and studying seashells.

At any rate, Aria had her Omega back.

Wait. That was it.

"Where's the shore party?" I asked, even though the answer was clear. There wasn't a shore party. Normally, Bray or some other equally-intimidating thug would, without fail, be the first to greet us the moment we set foot on Omega.

This time, nothing.

"Now, that's odd," Garrus said. "I can't remember a single time we've been here for more than ten seconds without one of Aria's goons showing up to make sure we won't cause trouble."

"Maybe she doesn't think we'll cause trouble, now that Shepard helped her," Liara suggested hopefully.

I smirked and raised an eyebrow at her.

Garrus snorted. There was something particularly brash in the way he carried himself, here. When he was on Omega, he was Archangel, and I hadn't quite decided whether or not that was a good thing.

I was glad, at least, that he had taken her comment lightheartedly, and not as an excuse to wallow. After I'd helped Aria clear Cerberus out of her home, he and I had quite the argument. He thought I'd been reckless, going in without a squad from the Normandy. He refused to believe that I didn't have a choice - the outing hadn't exactly been a legal use of Alliance resources, and I wasn't about to get my people tangled up in a side-venture that could land them in custody without the protection of Spectre status. Besides, Aria had explicitly asked for my help and my help, alone.

"Better go and check on her, just in case," Garrus said.

Before I could argue, we were already walking past the line of annoyed patrons waiting to get into Aria's nightclub. I caught a few sideways glances from them and wondered if my face was still a recognizable one, here.

Despite my determination to get us out of Omega as quickly as possible, I couldn't help but feel partially responsible for the place, now. Aria, Nyreen, and I had fought for this damned rock. Nyreen died for this damned rock. If something was wrong, I wanted to know about it.

If something was wrong, maybe I could fix it.

I didn't even try to convince myself that Thessia wasn't pushing me through the doors of Afterlife.

The bouncer - for the first time that I could remember - was surprised to see us. "Club's full, sor- Oh! Commander, uh- A-Aria's inside," he stuttered.

I nodded curtly and lead my team through the doors that he opened for us. Something was certainly wrong. Aria should have known we were here, even if she didn't send a greeting party. Everyone should have known we were here. That had always been the way Aria and her network of information worked. The fact that they were surprised meant something else was going on. Something was distracting Aria from running her kingdom in the way she saw fit.

My stomach knotted. Screw fixing problems. We needed to get out of this place.

Bass throbbed in my chest and lights flashed across my vision. We were greeted with the obligatory coos from the Asari dancers above the bar.

My gaze lingered on them for a fraction of a second. I vividly remembered gutting an Adjutant on their stage, only a few weeks prior. I thought for a second that I could still hear it shrieking, but realized it was just a high note in the music.

I shook my head to scatter those thoughts and continued onwards and upwards towards Aria's couch.

"You look like you could use a drink," Garrus's voice growled in my ear. He was walking close behind me, worry pinching the plates which covered his brows and forehead. "Omega left more than a few scars on you, Shepard."

"Yeah, well, you would know," I retorted, brushing off his concern. I regretted those words as soon as I said them. "Insensitive" didn't even begin to cover it. Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

His subvocals ground together wordlessly and frustratedly.

"I would," he said, after a moment.

I continued, pretending to ignore the obvious sting in his voice, "We should get our supplies and get out of here before things get messy. Forget Afterlife, and forget whatever it is that's going on, here."

"Things won't get messy." He resisted my attempt to slow our pace by nudging me onwards with his shoulder.

"Things always get messy. It's Omega, Garrus."

"You don't have to remind me where we are, Shepard." Confidence twanged harshly against pain. His tones faltered on the last syllable of my name.

I swallowed. I couldn't even begin to imagine what he'd gone through, when he lost his squad. We'd spoken about it countless times, even before we'd started sleeping together. Hushed conversations in the Main Battery while he worked. Murmured reassurances in the mess while I drank coffee and poured over reports.

I shouldn't have brought him here. I should have fought him harder. Why had I even let us wander into Afterlife? We didn't need anything from Aria, and if Aria had needed anything from us, she would have contacted us. Idiot.

It was time to put my foot down and end this excursion before it was completely derailed. I stopped halfway up the second flight of stairs and forced my most annoyed facial expression through the mixed bag of emotions tossing around in my gut.

"We need to get to the markets, get what we need, and get back to the Normandy. We don't have time to chat with old friends, right now."

"So, I'm an 'old friend,' now?" Aria interrupted, standing at the top of the stairs with all of the self-entitled sass I'd come to expect of her. "I'm beginning to think that kiss I gave you was a mistake, Shepard. I don't need a clingy Spectre hanging around my station."

Bray, ever the faithful bodyguard, stood behind her. He nodded a greeting to me. He had a datapad in his hands. I was surprised to see Aria off of her couch, and it seemed like she and Bray were going somewhere. Wherever they were headed, it must have been important, given the fact that it warranted the presence of Omega's matriarch.

Aria looked the same as she always had. Skintight clothes clung to her as a reminder of her history as a dancer and she wore her white jacket like a mantle of royalty. It was eerie. Even with the galaxy collapsing around us, Aria and Omega were the same. Unchanging rocks floating through chaos.

Unchanging rocks who picked the worst moments to bring up certain past events.

I groaned.

"Kiss?" Liara asked, trotting up a few steps to stand beside Garrus and I. She'd been lingering behind, letting us bicker like she always did - she knew it wouldn't do any good if she tried to intervene. "What kiss?"

"Just wanted to say hello, Aria," I said through gritted teeth. "Didn't see any of your people at the docks. Wanted to make sure everything was alright."

Just wave us off, Aria. Just send us on our way and don't get us involved with whatever is happening. If I believed in a god, I'd have been praying.

"How sweet," Aria deadpanned. "I can assure you, we have the issue under control."

"What kind of issue is it?" Garrus asked. He'd taken a half-step away from me and crossed his arms when Aria brought up the kiss. I knew we'd be having a conversation about it, later. Damn. I should have told him about it. Played it off as the joke that it was. Now, it looked like I was hiding something from him. Idiot.

"The kind that doesn't involve you, Archangel," Aria sneered.

I held a hand out in front of Garrus before he could return fire. He bristled.

"Is it a threat to the war effort?" I asked, setting my jaw and leveling a glare at Omega's boss.

Aria waved a sinuous hand. "No, it's not. It's Omega business, and I don't recall inviting you here to assist, this time. I won't bother tourists with such matters." She spat the word "tourists" at me and returned my glare down her nose.

I sighed and thanked the Spirits, Goddess, and whatever other deities that might have heard my internal screaming and saw fit to make this errand an easy one. I turned on my heel with the intention of heading down the stairs and out the front door.

"Well, then, we'll be on our wa-"

"If you don't tell us, we'll find out soon enough," Liara interrupted me. She had her angry face on: eyebrows pinched together, lips pursed, chin tilted downwards. Damn her and her good samaritan tendencies. Why did I have to befriend such decent people?

"Can it, princess," Aria snapped. "Shepard, keep your pets in line. I don't need some book-bred whelp or a failed Turian cop mucking around in my affairs. I'm not here to throw you a pity party. Don't think you can use my problems as some sort of recompense for what happened on Thessia, because I will not tolerate that level of pathetic-"

I felt my biotics surge through my arm even before my outrage registered in my brain. The rest of the staircase fell away beneath my feet and, before I knew it, I was standing at the top with my hand around Aria's neck.

I narrowed my eyes and hissed, "Not another word."

"Shepard, stop!" Liara's hands were on my arm, trying to break my grip.

Bray already had his pistol drawn and trained on me, even though he and I both knew I had no intention of actually harming Aria. She was too strong of an ally and - though it pained me to admit it - she really had become somewhat of a friend, in the years that I'd known her.

I respected her, and that was why her words cut me to my core.

Garrus had his rifle aimed at Bray, and I realized the situation had the potential to turn into an absolute clusterfuck. Get ahold of yourself, Shepard. What the hell is wrong with you?

I gave Aria's throat a rough squeeze and then released her. She coughed. I shook my arm. Biotics always left an unpleasant pins-and-needles tingle behind, when I didn't use a charge.

"You did a favor for me, once," Aria wheezed, "so I _won't_ have you killed for that. Watch your fucking temper, Shepard, because next time I won't be so fucking kind."

That was probably about as close to an apology as I was ever going to get.

She straightened and adjusted her jacket, working out the kinks that I'd put in its collar. Bray lowered his weapon. Garrus followed suit.

"We should go," I said, not taking my eyes off of Aria. I was sure she'd find some way of getting me back for my outburst, one day.

Liara glanced nervously at me. "But, Shepard-"

"Aria's right," I cut her off. "Omega is her domain, not ours. If she says she can handle it, she can handle it. Come on."

Bray murmured something to Aria.

Liara, Garrus, and I made it four steps back towards the entrance before Aria stopped us.

"Wait," she called. Her voice was more resign than actual desire for us to stay in her company.

Fuck me.

We all turned back to face her.

"There's been a string of mass murders on the station," she said begrudgingly. She glanced at Bray, who gave her a curt nod of what Batarians must consider encouragement. "They've been... Difficult to handle, with the public."

So much for a simple errand. Merry-fucking-Christmas, Shepard.

You idiot.


End file.
